


Down in the Dumps

by winterpillowtalk



Series: One Direction vs. Boring Jobs [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Band, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterpillowtalk/pseuds/winterpillowtalk
Summary: Zayn has a job, Liam doesn't. They share a flat. Harry is the boss of a company. Louis gets lost. Niall tries his best.





	Down in the Dumps

**Author's Note:**

> this is the best thing you'll ever read. shakespeare could never

He couldn’t deny it, his job wasn’t the best. Waking up at 4am every morning, Monday to Friday wasn’t what he saw himself doing when he left university, but he had to pay his student loan back one way or another — he really did not want the government to break into his flat and steal his £750 smoked ham he was saving for a very special occasion.

The sound of his alarm woke him up, quickly followed by his housemate yelling, pounding on their shared wall. “Zayn!” Liam shouted, punching yet another dent into the plasterboard. He was going to have to fill it up with paint in an attempt to hide the damage from their landlord. Again.

“I’m up,” Zayn groaned, forcing himself out from under the duvet.

It was freezing in his room, for some reason. He didn’t understand why; it was the middle of July during a heatwave. He looked towards where he kept his three fridges — he needed somewhere to keep his snacks — every door was wide open.

“Liam,” he called, wobbling over towards his white kitchen appliances. “Did you get the hummus out of the fridges when I was asleep?” He checked his dip supply before closing the doors, trying his best not to think about how much his electricity bill would be by the end of the month.

“Yeah,” Liam replied, half conscious. “I crave chickpea paste at midnight.”

“So, what? Like a vegan vampire? Do you stalk around the streets on Halloween searching for innocent soy products to feast on too?” Zayn laughed when he didn’t get a reply back. He was jealous that Liam didn’t need to wake up before sunrise... or at all. Liam didn’t have a job, nor hobbies. All he did was eat Zayn’s Levantine side dishes — which, Zayn thought, could be considered as a hobby if he tried hard enough.

Shaking away his envy, Zayn went back to his bed, quickly changing out of his pyjamas and into the company jumpsuit. It was ugly; he wasn’t sure who decided to make the colours purple and orange but he had no authority to complain about something so small.

“I’m going to work,” Zayn said, picking up his watch and car keys as he walked out of the flat. He could already tell it was going to be a long day.

***

It would take Zayn less than half an hour to drive from Rhyl to Flint on a good morning, depending on how many people had decided to try and get mugged in his hometown the night before. As he drove by the ghost of Sun Centre Past, he noticed a man propped up against a half-wall. Stupidly, he slowed down, opening his window slightly.

“You alright?” Zayn asked cautiously, his hand clutching to his phone in case the strange man tried to murder him at 4:27am. “Do you want me to call-“ But then he stopped as the man looked up at him. Zayn almost laughed aloud when he saw the state of his friend. “Louis?” he said, biting back a grin. “What are you doing out at half four in the morning? Shouldn’t you be at home like everyone else?”

“I could say the same about you,” Louis shrugged, sitting comfortably against the wall, crossing his legs.

Zayn sighed. “You know I have work this early. And, by the way, you’re eating into my traveling time. I can’t be late. Tell me why you’re out and then I can get back to driving.”

Louis forced himself up from the cold pavement, opting to now sit on top of the wall, gazing at Zayn in his car. “Went for a late night walk,” Louis said, gesturing around himself. “Which turned into an early morning one.”

Zayn narrowed his eyes, looking back at his friend. “Lou- Louis… you live in Beaumaris, don’t you?” When the other man nodded, Zayn covered his face with his hands; it was too early to be dealing with this. He realised he couldn’t drop Louis back home because it was in the complete opposite direction to where he was meant to be going, but he knew he couldn’t let him wonder the streets — especially in the area Zayn had found him. “Listen,” he huffed. “Go back to mine. Liam is still asleep, but you can let yourself in. There’s a key under the light salmon chest of drawers near the door.”

Louis paused. “You have a chest of drawers outside your flat? Why not keep your key under the mat or a plant pot?”

“Too obvious. Plus, no one would want to break into a place which has something weird just outside,” Zayn said. “I _really_ don’t have time to explain my furnishing choices to you right now. If you’re still there when I get back, I can talk you through it all. Hey, if you’re lucky, I may even make you a PowerPoint about it over my lunch break.”

Before Louis could reply, Zayn had already sped off into the distance.

***

By some miracle, he wasn’t late.

He pulled up to Refuse and Rubble, scanning his employee card at the carpark gates. Due to how early he arrived, there was no struggle finding an adequate parking spot. He tended to stop in the same place every day, turning it into a joke among his work colleagues. He didn’t mind, though. He liked his spot; it was just far enough from the manager's office that he rarely bumped into her during his walk up to the staff room, but not too far away that it turned into a mini trek each morning.

“Good morning!” a cheery, unfamiliar voice called out. Zayn refused to look behind him, he could already hear the person’s footsteps getting ever close to him as he sped up his pace. He had already suffered through a hellish morning; he did not need someone else forcing themselves upon him before he could drop his bag off in the cloakroom. “Hey. Slow down, will you?”

Zayn stopped, unhappily turning around to see who was trying to get his attention. As expected, he had no idea who the new man was. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for the stranger to introduce himself because Zayn was in no mood to start a conversation with him.

Getting the signal, the stranger extended his mega-arm, waiting for Zayn to shake his hand. “I’m Harry.” he said, grabbing onto Zayn’s hand. “I’m the new owner of this beautiful landfill.”

***

Zayn was on the first shift with Niall. He didn’t mind his co-worker; he mainly kept to himself, muttering quietly in a language Zayn didn’t understand. When Niall began working with the company, there had been rumours that he wasn’t from around here, some even suggesting he was extraterrestrial. Zayn knew it was only lighthearted office gossip, but the longer he worked with the man, the more sense the alien label began to make. However, martian or not, Niall was a nice guy — quiet, efficient and punctual.

Zayn hopped into the drivers seat, offering Niall a friendly wave. “Good weekend, Nialler?" Niall replied in a series of beeps and gurgles. “Good one,” Zayn said, hoping that three beeps and a strangling noise was something positive.

He turned down the street, checking the Sat Nav to make sure they were heading to the right area. They had over seventy stops to make before 10am, giving them approximately five minutes between each neighbourhood. It was just about possible for most people, but Niall was inhumanly fast at picking the bins up and tipping the contents into the back of the truck. E.T.-esque? Potentially. Useful? Extremely. Zayn really couldn’t care less if it got them back to the depot quicker than the other guys on their jobs.

Zayn pulled up onto the curb, allowing Niall to jump out of the cab. He sped around the truck, picking up two large green bins with his bare hands, throwing the rubbish into the back. Just as the final black bag fell down into the space below, someone ran out of the opposite house, screaming her lungs out.

“My cheese!” she shouted, sprinting straight towards Niall. “Where is it?!” The woman stopped in front of a visibly confused Niall. She shook him, demanding for her dairy produce was over and over again. It was clear Niall had no idea what was going on or how to react to the situation as he let out a distressed whine.

Deciding enough was enough, Zayn undid his seatbelt and hopped out of the truck. “Can I help you?” he asked, approaching the woman.

“My cheese!” she repeated, still shaking an ever greener Niall.

“What about it? Has it been thrown out? If it has, I’m sorry but there’s nothing we can do about it now. You’ll have to buy some more when the shops open,” Zayn explained, trying to stay as calm as he could.

“It- it was _engraved_!” the woman sobbed, tears rolling down her face.

Zayn did a double take. “Engraved? You owned _engraved cheese_ and threw it out?” he asked, not wanting to know why she owned it, or what was marked into it.

The woman glared at him in disgust, “I did _not_ throw it out. It must have fallen in the bin when I was cleaning. There is no way I would have chucked out my prized possession and inheritance. I’m not stupid!”

Zayn didn’t answer, knowing he would most definitely be fired by Mr. Mega-Arms if it ever reached him.

“I’m going to sue you!” the woman concluded, still shouting in the middle of the street.

He was getting bored of the woman and started to suspect that the commotion would soon start to raise suspicion among the residents if he did not manage to quieten her down. “I can report this to someone in our office, if you like,” he suggested. He knew that it wouldn’t do anything; it wasn’t the job of the waste collection company to monitor what was going in or out of the bins. If it was in a black bag, it was going in the truck and that was final. “Or you can take it up with the the manager. Whichever you fancy the most.”

The woman, who still looked outraged, wrapped her coat tighter around herself as she considered her options. “I’ll call the manager when I get back into the house,” she declared. “You haven’t heard that last of me!” And, with that, she stormed back into her home.

Zayn rolled his eyes at Niall as the two of them made their way back into the cab. “Classic Monday morning isn’t it, Horan?” Zayn chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m sure our lovely new boss will enjoy dealing with her when he picks up the phone in about five minutes.”

“Boop,” Niall said, nodding happily as Zayn put the truck into gear.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

***

Zayn was met by Harry storming towards him, his mega-arms swinging aggressively. “Zayn!” Harry demanded, pointing to the ground in front of him. “Get out.”

Zayn, smiling sweetly, he jumped out of the truck to meet his newly appointed boss. “Yes?” he said expectantly. “What’s wrong, boss?”

Harry looked like he wanted to punch a wall, and then a small child — or maybe the two at the same time. “Please enlighten to me why a woman called me about cheese?”

“Engraved cheese,” Zayn corrected smoothly, making Niall let out a strange laughing sound.

Harry sighed, glowering at his employee. “Yes, engraved cheese. Why did she inform

me that you and some bumbling man told her to discuss her issue with me? It’s only my first day! I shouldn’t have to be dealing with insane women and their oh so precious mouldy items.” He paused. “Or ever!”

Zayn zoned out as Harry ranted about the cheese woman, probably saying something about how it was unacceptable and that they couldn’t do anything to retrieve her most valued item once it had gone into the back of the truck.

He was sure his boss kept yelling for a solid ten minutes, but Zayn didn’t listen — he was too busy thinking about more important things like which country he was going to support in Eurovision or if he could make it illegal for people to not to like Wham!.

When it was obvious that Harry had ran out of things to shout about, Zayn gave his boss a quick wave and turned around to walk back to his car. He couldn’t be bothered staying at work much longer; he didn’t care if he still had a few more hours remaining — and judging by how Harry was acting, he wasn’t particularly wanted on the site at that moment in time. Besides, he needed to see if Liam had woken up from him never ending sleep to find something to do with his existence, and if Louis had manage to leave his flat.

Zayn had just about managed to get into his car when he caught Harry rushing up to him. He groaned, not wanting to listen to another lecture about company policy and how to act around the general public.

“What?” Zayn asked, rolling down his widow to stare at the man to his left.

“Roll safe,” Harry said, sounding way too sincere for Zayn’s liking.

“Uh…” Zayn replied, not knowing what to say. He had never heard anyone use that phrase before. Maybe it was something Harry had made up on the spot to get his attention — or to confuse him. It had done both. Zayn was impressed by its effectiveness. “Thank you?” he guessed, after a couple of seconds, presuming it was an unusual farewell.

Harry smiled, not saying anything else or attempting to clear up the uncomfortable silence between them. From this, Zayn concluded that his new boss weirder than the last one who collected seaweed in a padlocked briefcase. Sometimes he missed Ms Beans and all her eccentricities, no matter how much her office smelled like rotting ocean plants during the hot summer months.

***

It took him almost ninety minutes to drive home thanks to a group of people who decided to reenact all of _The Sound Of Music_ on the duel carriageway. He was angry. He couldn’t stand that film. Why couldn’t they have chosen something better like _Mamma Mia!_ or _SpongeBob SquarePants: The Broadway Musical_? They were, in his opinion, far superior than a woman prancing around in a field with enough children to form a dance group.

Zayn rushed up the three flights of stairs to reach his flat. When he tried to unlock the door, he found that it was easily pushed open. Zayn muttered to himself, he had told Liam to always have the door locked even if he was in — he did not trust the people around him, nor the people on his floor. There had been many bad rumours spread about his block, but he had grown way too attached to the place to move out. Plus, Liam wasn’t paying any share of the rent — they couldn’t afford anywhere else.

Zayn threw his keys into the random bowl they had on the side next to the door, undoing his orange/purple jumpsuit as he walked. “Honey,” he sang, making his way into the kitchen. “I’m home.”

He was greeted with a mess — if he was a mum, he would compare it to a bomb-site. Pans were everywhere, knives were on the floor, there was a spoon sticking out of his favourite houseplant and he was sure he could see a pool of an unidentifiable red liquid around the dining table.

Confused, Zayn kept on going. He stepped over a loaf of bread and potato waffle in the centre of the floor, searching for his flatmate. “Liam?” he called, looking under the kitchen table for him and in the cabinets. When his search was unsuccessful, he decided that he would have to lie down. It had been a long (and weird) day. He deserved a nap, at the very least.

The first thing he noticed was how cold his room was, much like the temperature it had been when he woke up. He felt his heart drop when he noticed his fridges. The doors were open again. He knew Liam had been in here, looking for his hummus fix.

Albeit annoyed, Zayn didn’t think too much about the open fridges until he heard the unmistakable sound of his flatmate and Louis laughing in the small office area Zayn had managed to put together two months ago. His curiosity got the better of him within seconds, meaning he had to force himself out of his room and locate his friends.

Zayn pushed through the curtain separating the living room and ‘office’ to find his two friends sat together on the floor, surrounded by something they were desperately trying to hide.

“What are you doing?” Zayn asked, trying to get a better view of them semi-hidden item Louis had decided to cover with his body. “Louis. What is it?” he demanded, being too tired for Tomlinson’s childish behaviour — he had already offered for him to stay in his home (although Zayn had kind of hoped that he would have left by the time he had arrived back). His day had be strange enough; he didn’t need whatever was going on here to add to it.

“Uh,” Liam started to say. “Nothing?” The uncertainty only increased his annoyance. When he raised an eyebrow, Liam finally cracked. “It’s your ham,” he whispered, not looking Zayn in the eye.

Zayn’s whole world stopped. His ham. His £750 ham which he was saving for a very special occasion. Eating it in under a table in their makeshift office was in no way a special occasion, no matter how you twisted it. He was furious.

“You’re joking,” he said, not believing a word his flatmate said. He had to be lying; Liam knew how much that chunk of meat meant to him. He was sure his best friend wouldn’t decide to eat the whole thing during the few hours he was left alone.

“It wasn’t my idea,” Liam muttered, defending himself. “Louis said he was hungry and went to get something out of your three fridges in your bedroom.”

Zayn turned to look at Louis. “You went into my room and stole my ham?” he asked, staring at the man who was still tearing off strips of meat. When Louis nodded, Zayn’s vision blacked out. He wasn’t sure what he did, but only came back to the present when he heard Liam scream.

“What’s going on?!”” Liam sobbed, eating another tub of hummus with his hands. “Who are you?”

Zayn didn’t hear Louis, making him anxious. What had he done during his moment of rage? Had he hurt his ham stealing friend? Or worse? He managed to get himself to look where Louis was once sitting, but did not need anyone there. “Where’s Lou?” Zayn asked, talking slowly.

“A woman came in and took him,” Liam replied, his voice shaking. “She said something about cheese and how this would be payback. What’s going on? Who was she? Where did she take Louis?”

Zayn went still. It was the woman from that morning, coming to take revenge on Zayn after binning his engraved dairy product. He thought about trying to get Louis back, but knew it would be worthless. The woman was probably on her way back to her house and Zayn couldn’t remember where that was. Besides, this was a good punishment for eating his expensive cured meat. Louis would probably have a good life living with this random woman — perhaps they could bond over their love for food or whatever. Zayn didn’t really care anymore. He was tired, still angry and now had to source another fancy ham for safe keeping.

Liam had stood up by the time Zayn had finished his mental to-do list. “Aren’t we going to find him? He can’t leave Louis with that woman! It’s not right — he was kidnapped!”

Zayn shrugged. “Served him right. You know no one should touch the sacred ham in those fridges. It is one of the few rules I have in this flat.” When Liam didn’t respond or move, Zayn continued. “Besides, I want to tell you about our new boss and how I’m certain Niall is an alien.”

Liam quickly forgot about his friend’s peril once Zayn had begun the long and overly detailed story about Mr Mega-Arms and Niall’s existence.

Life quickly went back to normal; Liam was snacking away on whatever he could get his hands on as Zayn described how Harry spoke to him before he left the site. They forgot about Louis, decided that it was for the best. He would have a good life with the cheese woman. Louis got on with most people, and if he hated it that much then Zayn was sure he could make the sixty mile walk back home easily.


End file.
